


Paint it Red

by h_itoshi



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: AU, Attemped horror, M/M, urban legend inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 13:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13342527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_itoshi/pseuds/h_itoshi
Summary: It's their house. It still makes Keito all fluttery thinking about it, the pronoun feeling good enough to repeat in his head over and over.Theirhouse.





	Paint it Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aisu_Inoue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisu_Inoue/gifts).



> Dear Aisu. After a few attempts at writing for you I finally ended up with this. I know you said you wanted Japanese legends, so I kind of twisted that into an urban legend since I really don't know a single thing about the classic ones. And since urban legends are usually scary, well. This happened. I hope you can enjoy it~ <3

“Are you ready?” Keito asks, turning to look at Yamada on the doorstep next to him, the anticipation putting a nervous smile on his features.

“Mm-hm.” Yamada nods, smiling back that brilliant smile, eyes glittering with excitement.

“Okay. Here we go.” Keito says, feeling a little ridiculous but still thrilled as he sets the key in the lock and turns.

It's their house. It still makes Keito all fluttery thinking about it, the pronoun feeling good enough to repeat in his head over and over. _Their_ house.

He met Yamada more than three years ago, through a common friend at a pub late at night, and Keito immediately thought he was breathtakingly beautiful. So beautiful Keito couldn't even introduce himself, especially not since Yamada was so popular already. Pretty girls surrounding him, listening to him talking about travels and fashion and food, and Keito had never felt so unworthy before. He was just his boring self, hadn't travelled abroad since he was 15 and his only real interest was playing guitar. Yamada looked at him a few times that night, and Keito had to work down a blush under the gaze of those dark brown eyes, but Yamada's attention was always stolen back. Keito ended up not saying a word to him.

Until a few months later at a home party, where Keito actually dropped his beer bottle on the floor when he turned around to face Yamada smiling at him with a plastic mug of red wine in his hand. It earned him a pair of ruined pants and a new Line contact after a long night of chatting with the most exquisite person he's ever encountered. And Yamada easily let Keito into his life, accepting his pedestrian looks and simple lifestyle as if they were as exotic as his own, and Keito never understood why.

They were friends for a long time after initially meeting, even though Keito had the most wonderful and horrible crush he'd ever experienced from day one. Some nights, after Yamada had hugged him tight, or smiled at someone else, Keito would come home and cry because he wanted to be with him so bad but knew there was no way. Even if Yamada turned out to have any gay tendencies, he was way out of Keito's league anyway.

Then another blessed night of alcohol influence brought them from platonic to more. It was 1 am in a packed karaoke booth, Yamada perched on Keito's lap in his skintight black Levi's, singing like the angel he was even after several drinks, and Keito was so busy being mesmerized by the cologne, voice and warmth that he almost forgot to try and will down his boner. But Yamada finished the song, giggling and handing over the mic, wrapping arms around Keito's neck and cuddling close, and Keito couldn't even be blamed for kissing him right there in front of six other people.

He remembers vaguely hearing the catcalls but all he could perceive was Yamada's arms tightening around his neck, lips kissing him back, and his head was spinning even before Yamada dragged him home and started tearing at Keito's clothes like he'd never wanted anyone more in his life.

And now, a year and a half later, they finally got the keys to their own house. It was mostly practicalities leading up to it, Keito disliking living in the city and Yamada got a new job so moving was the best option, but it still feels big to Keito. Like a real adult, living with the love of his life in a house of their own. Maybe they could even get a dog together now, like they've been talking about for ages.

“Keito come on, just open the door!” Yamada urges, and Keito realizes he's been standing with the key in the lock for a moment too long.

He fights off Yamada's attempt at reaching over and opening the door himself, laughing and grabbing the handle to open the front door to their new home.

It's a fairly small house, but a lot of light comes in through the windows and Keito fell in love the second he first stepped inside. The main room echoes with the sound of Yamada's soft sigh as he steps inside, no furniture to muffle it yet. Thankfully, that's what their friends are there for.

The day passes in a mess of people running in and out the door, carrying boxes and furniture, complaining about heavy things but being silenced with take-away pizza for the effort, and Keito feels as messy as the place is right now. Thankfully Yamada loves this, a clean canvas in form of rooms he can decorate as he likes, and he points people in the right direction with rosy cheeks and eyes glittering in excitement, slapping Yuto more than once when he tries to take boxes to the wrong room on purpose.

It's past ten in the evening when the door closes behind the last helpful friend, and Keito and Yamada crash together on the couch since the bed isn't made yet Keito doesn't even know where the sheets are.

“I'm so tired.” Yamada groans, head leaning on Keito's shoulder while chewing leftover pizza since they didn't have the energy to do more than put whatever was left to heat in the oven for a while.

“I can't feel my feet.” Keito agrees, leaning his own head on top of Yamada's, smelling warm hair and the faint remains of his shampoo.

“I don't wanna make the bed.” Yamada goes on, whining even as he reaches for another slice of pepperoni pizza from the box in Keito's lap.

“I saw a blanket in a bag. Let's just crash here.” Keito suggests half seriously, but Yamada sighs happily and Keito figures that's approval.

“Mm.” Yamada mumbles, and Keito already feels like his eyelids weigh a hundred pounds. “It's nice though.”

Keito glances around, the skeleton of an interior placed in the room. The couch is set, TV placement, tables and chairs in their place, but boxes are still piled in the kitchen area behind them, along the walls, plants and lamps standing all over the place together with cardboard boxes of new shelves waiting to be built. Only the necessities are already rigged, like a few lamps to give them light.

“It looks good already.” Keito smiles, rubbing his cheek softly against Yamada's hair, and he knows Yamada appreciates the praise. It's his dream, working with interior design, but right now, he's working as a kindergarten teacher, trying to study in the evenings but it's a slow progress.

Keito does freelance translation work, and even though he'd probably prefer having a job to go to rather than sitting at home spending his time as he pleases, this works for him right now. He's only 24, he doesn't need to have life figured out yet.

“Thanks.” Yamada mumbles, voice sleepy as he reaches out for the pizza box and places it on the coffee table instead. “Just wait until you see it tomorrow.”

“I can't wait.” Keito agrees, watching Yamada lick cheese remains from his fingers and smiles. “Tomorrow.”

They fall asleep tangled in the couch under a blanket, and Keito figures that he's not that adult just yet.

The following day, Keito spends carrying things after Yamada's instruction, unpacking things that goes into a variety of cupboards and slowly but surely watching their house take shape to look like theirs. Yamada is efficient, has the bathroom unpacked and home magazine styled before lunch and starts on the bedroom while Keito fills bookshelves in the corridor between the bedroom and bathroom, until Keito starts complaining about lunch. He has half a mind that they go out to eat, taking a break, but Yamada makes a face at the idea, pointedly glancing down at his ratty sweatpants and worn out T-shirt, bangs kept back by a cute hair clip Keito doesn't even know where he found. And so they order curry and keep going.

“Hey Ryosuke.” Keito calls from where he sits on the floor with his curry box on one side and book box on the other, eating at a pleasant pace while stuffing magazines into the lower shelves.

He smiles as he watches the photo in his hand, because he's never seen it before but it's adorable.

“What?” Yamada calls back from the bedroom before appearing in the doorway with his food in hand, and Keito can tell he didn't eat any of it yet.

“This is you right?” He asks, raising the old photograph, and Yamada frowns as he comes closer to accept it, setting his food aside.

It's a cute photo, Yamada can't be more than 5 or 6 years old, hugging a big stuffed zebra tight with the love only a child and a stuffed animal can share.

Yamada's frown deepens as he examines the picture, then looks up at Keito, a little confused. “Where did you find this?” He asks, and Keito shrugs.

“It was on the floor, it must have fallen out of some album.” He says, because this is his third box and he has no idea what came from where. “How old are you?”

Yamada contemplates the photo for a while, but then hands it back to Keito. “Five I think.”

“You're very cute.” Keito smiles as he watches the photo again, Yamada's little smile somehow just the same 19 years later as on the slightly dusty photo.

“Oh hush you.” Yamada says, breathing a small laugh then turns to return to the bedroom.

“Hey, you should eat something. You don't wanna pass out.” Keito tells him as the food he set down on a moving box remains where he left it.

“I'm not that hungry right now.”

Is all the response he gets, and Keito rolls his eyes, but decides to at least make sure Yamada eats a proper dinner. He wouldn't want to start off life here with another unhealthy eating routine that makes him pass out at work.

For some reason Keito can't for his life fathom, Yamada is never pleased with how he looks, keeps saying he's too fat or not toned enough or his hair is ugly and his face is a mess. So Keito does his best to tell him every day how beautiful he is, does anything to keep him from falling back into eating disorders that's apparently followed him his entire teenage years. Keito doesn't really know much about it because Yamada doesn't want to talk about it. So he's settled on being happy that he's healthy now, but he still worries when Yamada skips a meal.

When he's finished with the magazine box, he takes Yamada's curry and puts it in the depressingly empty fridge to save it for later.

He's got one book box left that he's hesitant will even fit in the shelf, and it's the heaviest one yet, holding all of Yamada's damn design magazines, and so Keito yelps embarrassingly loud when he suddenly steps on something and almost falls.

“Are you okay?” Yamada calls from the bedroom, peaking his head around the door while Keito curses and kicks aside what he slipped on, seeing a red crayon roll away to the wall and he didn't even know they owned crayons.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He sighs, setting the box down next to the bookshelf. “I just slipped.”

Yamada doesn't reply, and so Keito looks up to find eyes watching him seriously, his facial expression a little strange, and Keito raises an eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” He asks, and Yamada shakes his head with a small smile.

“Sorry, I just spaced out.” He says softly, and Keito's just about to open his mouth and ask about if he shouldn't eat after all when Yamada tells him to come and look at the bedroom.

It takes a couple days to settle in properly, and Keito tries his best to feed Yamada and not question him too much, since he almost got yelled at when he asked if they shouldn't have a painting or something on the wall in the corridor since it's visible from the living room. Yamada had just glared at him like he was stupid and said no in his most firm kindergarden voice, and Keito apologized and went out to buy ice cream for the sake of their relationship.

But in the end, they have a mostly finished interior and they both start getting used to life in their new home. For example the bathroom is big enough for Yamada to straighten his hair while Keito brushes his teeth so they don't have to argue about bathroom time, their new bed is much softer than the previous one and the grocery store is close enough that they can go shop whenever they want to.

Still, it doesn't really feel like they've properly moved in until they have their first proper visit. Which does not include the house warming party where a majority of their friends got drunk off their minds and Yuto woke up in the bathtub wearing Yamada's bathrobe and nothing else and nobody knew how that happened.

The first visit is Yamada's older sister with her family, a husband and four year old daughter. Keito likes them a lot, and it feels very adult to sit at the dining table and have lunch together, going for a walk to the park where Yamada plays with his niece and it's so cute Keito's heart swells to the size of a balloon.

Yamada's niece is adorable, blabbering on about anything and everything but it's not in an annoying way, brings her toys around the house and clings to Yamada like he's the world to her. It's almost laughable because Keito can relate to the feeling, only he can't pull at Yamada's clothes to demand his attention, tell him to come along and play, or sit on his lap with arms around his neck at the dinner table.

Still, it's relieving when they go home, and Keito takes a breath, very clear with the fact that he's not having kids in a near future. Even Yamada sighs like he's tired, then smiles and offers to do the dishes if Keito cleans up, starting up music on the speakers which they both sing along to, mostly competing who does it worst.

Keito finds a small stuffed rabbit in the bathroom and a red crayon in the corridor, but otherwise there's nothing out of place and he helps drying the dishes while Yamada cleans them, discussing what to do with the rest of their evening now that they've properly socialized today.

“I want popcorn.” Yamada says as he washes bubbles from his hands, the last glass finally clean, and Keito accepts it as Yamada reaches for a towel. “And a movie. Something adult.”

“We're not watching porn together, we've been over this.” Keito tells him, grinning because he knows that's not what Yamada meant.

“I was thinking more the blood and death kind of-” Yamada starts with an eyeroll as he turns to hang the towel back, but then pauses, eyes fixed on the toys Keito left on the table. “Where did you find this?”

“What?” Keito asks, setting the glass back into its cupboard before turning back to see Yamada with the crayon in his hand, eyeing it with surprising severity.

“Oh uhm, in the corridor I think?”

Yamada wets his lips and puts it back down on the table, turning his back to it and smiles as he hangs the towel back up. “I changed my mind. I wanna watch The Holiday.”

Keito raises an eyebrow, glancing at the table because that was weird, but then accepts Yamada's mood swings.

“Sounds good to me.” He says, then turns around to reach for the popcorn.

But somehow, Keito later feels like that's the night when things begin to go wrong. The coming days Yamada starts acting strange, and Keito can't figure out what it is since he's never encountered this before. He's distant, keeps spacing out and Keito once finds him just staring at the wall in the corridor with empty eyes, and he has to shake Yamada's arm to get any contact with him.

“Are you okay?” Keito finally asks one night as they're getting ready for bed and he sees Yamada's eyes go a little dazed in the bathroom mirror even as he keeps rubbing cream into his skin.

“Yeah?” Yamada blinks and looks up at him, but Keito sets his toothbrush down and turns to actually look at Yamada directly.

“No I mean, are you okay, you seem... strange?” He says, carefully eyeing those pretty features like Yamada's face can tell him what this is about even when his voice won't. Yamada just frowns like he doesn't understand, and so Keito goes on. “Did you catch something, don't you like it here, is work okay...?”

Yamada blinks, fingers falling from his face like he still has no idea what Keito's on about, and Keito sighs.

“I'm sorry, I just. You know. If anything is bothering you, I'm here to listen to it?” He says finally, realizing he might be overreacting. It's not like he's actually lived with Yamada 24/7 before. Maybe this is just a part of his behaviour that Keito's never seen before.

“I...” Yamada starts, then sighs, reaching up to remove the hair clip keeping his bangs back. “I guess I'm a bit tired. I'm sorry. The kids at work are a mess sometimes.”

Keito sucks his lips into his mouth for a second to keep from asking why Yamada keeps smiling and saying work was fine every day if that's so, but he holds in the obvious start of an argument.

“Yeah?” He says instead, and Yamada sighs again, screwing the lid back onto his night cream.

“They're loud and messy and keeps pulling at my apron and I'm getting sick of doing the same puzzle twenty times a day.” He mutters, and Keito frowns, surprised at the tone since he's never heard Yamada be anything but warm about children before. “There's this little boy who's a monster, he's mean to the other kids and keeps saying bad words and sometimes I just want to...”

He trails off, and Keito blinks to make sure the dark look in his eyes is still there.

“Sorry.” Yamada says then, looking up, dark brown eyes as kind as they always are, but Keito can't shake the darkness he just saw them express. “I'm wondering if maybe I don't have the patience for kindergarten after all.”

“Don't say that.” Keito tries to comfort. “You can't be patient all the time, even with kids.”

But somehow, that doesn't seem to help at all, as Yamada bites his lip and his gaze falls to the floor, sticking there like he's lost in thought, and his voice is soft and shallow. “I suppose.”

“Hey.” Keito tries, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but Yamada slaps his hand away and Keito's shocked frozen. Yamada's never rejected his touch before. Not like this.

And so Keito wets his lips, carefully withdrawing his hand while trying to keep his heart from breaking, but he's stopped in the motion.

Yamada's fingers wrap around his wrist as he looks up at Keito with eyes wide in shock and pain and Keito doesn't understand anything right now.

“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” Yamada blurts out, sounding genuinely upset and Keito feels so helpless right now because he doesn't understand. “I don't know what's going on with me, I just feel weird and out of place and like nothing is right I... I'm sorry.”

Keito just watches him for a moment, his desperate eyes slowly glazing with potential tears that makes Keito wish he could do something. In the end, he holds his arms out and Yamada throws himself into the embrace, hugging Keito tight and sighing into his shoulder. Keito sighs too, wrapping his arms around Yamada and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Just. Talk to me when you feel bad, okay?” He mumbles, and he feels Yamada nod against him. “That's what I'm here for.”

Yamada squeezes him for a moment, and Keito can feel him relaxing in his arms. “Thank you.”

They stand there for a few long minutes, and even though Yamada seems to relax, Keito can't do the same, thoughts jumbling in his head about what might have happened to Yamada, if he's stressed or if work is worse than he says or he misses the city or whatever it could be. He just hopes Yamada will talk to him about it soon and not lock him out as he tends to do when things aren't perfect. But neither of them are conflict people, and so they never really do talk about things that one of them doesn't want to talk about. That one of them is usually Yamada.

Eventually, Yamada slowly withdraws from Keito's arms, smiling a little sheepishly and says he still has to brush his teeth, so Keito smiles and leaves the bathroom.

But he doesn't get very far, pausing after a few steps into the corridor and the bathroom door closes behind him. He frowns as he looks at the small, slim object, and somehow he feels really uneasy as he kneels down to pick it up.

It's a red crayon, tip intending it's been used a little, but otherwise it looks disturbingly familiar. A surprising wave of cold hits his body as he realizes he's seen this crayon here before, has picked it up once and kicked it away once. He quickly glances around, but there's only the usual walls around him, and he feels ridiculous suddenly. He's an adult, he shouldn't be scared of a crayon that happened to end up here more than once.

So he rises and puts the crayon safely in the bookshelf where he supposes it belongs, then goes to bed without looking behind him. But he still gets the creeping feeling that they don't own any crayons like that, a child's crayon, and that even if it fell from the bookshelf it wouldn't land in the middle of the corridor.

He even jumps when Yamada opens the bathroom door on the other side of the corridor, and Yamada frowns at him when he steps into the bedroom.

“... Are you still mad?” He asks softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed in his boxers and T-shirt and looking so pretty Keito almost forgets to be scared.

“No I'm not.” He says, putting his phone down on the nightstand and looks up in time to see Yamada smile softly at him, thoughts of asking him about the crayons suddenly feeling much less important than they seemed a moment ago.

“Good...” He mumbles, slowly crawling onto the bed and on top of Keito, pushing the sheets down and Keito forgets everything besides him.

Keito doesn't ask about the crayons the following day, or the day after that, since he doesn't find any new ones. Besides, Yamada doesn't act as strange anymore, and Keito figured it really was just being tired.

Then another strange thing happens. He wakes up in the middle of the night bathing in sweat after a nightmare he can't remember anything of except he was locked in a tiny dark room, and it takes him a moment to recognize the bedroom as he stares into the ceiling, eyes wide open. He draws a long, slow breath, then sits up, his sleep shirt sticking to his back and quickly cooling with sweat.

Yamada shifts next to him, groaning softly and Keito glances over at him to see him blinking his eyes open in the dim hint of moonlight slipping between the curtains.

“You 'kay?” Yamada mumbles, still half asleep, and Keito nods with a sigh.

“Bad dream.” He says, and Yamada slowly reaches out for him but makes a face as he touches Keito's back.

“Sweaty.” He mutters, and Keito smiles involuntarily, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest.

Then he pauses to listen, a sound he doesn't recognize reaching his ears, and his already adrenaline filled body tenses up. It's a small scratching sound, irregular and quiet, but he hears it even over the beating of his heart.

“Do you hear that?” Keito asks, voice as tense as the rest of him, and Yamada frowns sleepily, slowly heaving himself up onto his elbows while blinking at Keito.

“What?” He asks, and Keito hushes him until he hears the small scratching again, sounding almost rhytmic now. Short short long, short, a few short ones and another long, then two short.

“That.” He say quietly, and Yamada frowns, looking over his shoulder towards the wall at the foot of the bed.

“Do we have mice?” He mumbles, then groans and falls back onto his pillow. “I hate putting out mouse traps, mice are cute.”

Keito smiles at his muffled complaints, forcing himself to relax because it's obviously mice. Just like in his grandmother’s house where the walls sounded weird sometimes because of the colony of mice she refused to clean out.

“Go shower.” Yamada goes on, and Keito frowns, feeling a little offended but it seems tempting to freshen up despite the alarm clock reading 3:24 in the morning.

“I'll be right back.” He says, but Yamada just hums like he's already asleep again, and Keito rises from the bed, noting the scratching has stopped.

But as he steps on something slim and hard on the floor in the corridor, his heart seems to stop in sudden panic and he turns around and hurries back to bed without looking at the floor or around him. He doesn't pause to breathe until he's safely back in bed with Yamada, wriggling out of his sweaty shirt before cuddling up close to him and trying to pretend that wasn't a red crayon he stepped on.

The next morning Keito feels stupid about it, especially since there's no crayon on the floor when he gets out of bed to the smell of coffee in the kitchen. Still, he can't help but remember the feeling, the slim, hard, papery surface under his foot and he knows what he felt.

So when he steps into the kitchen where Yamada's eating toast for breakfast while scrolling on his phone, he feels like he has to ask.

“Ryosuke.” He starts, pouring a coffee cup for himself then holds it with both hands for strength as he sits down opposite Yamada at the table.

“Hmm?” Yamada acknowledges him, but he doesn't look up from his phone.

“Did you... Find any red crayons on the floor?” Keito asks, feeling stupid the second he asks, but Yamada looks up at him with a suspicious look.

“No.” He says, that same hard tone as when Keito asked if they shouldn't hang a painting in the corridor. “Should I have?”

“No.” Keito shrugs, trying to keep it casual but he feels awkward under Yamada's stern look. “Just wondering.”

Yamada eyes him for another moment, then turns his focus back to his phone, tone going light again. “I don't even think we have crayons.”

Keito breathes a quiet, shaky breath and decides not to pursue that, because even if he feels very uneasy about it, he's getting a feeling Yamada won't let him talk about this. And so he doesn't, and he stops going to the bathroom at night.

It's a beautiful afternoon when Keito comes home after a walk to clear his head, the best thing he can think of when translations mess up his head and he needs a break. The sun is low in the sky, illuminating everything in the living room in gold, and he smiles at how pretty it looks. Now, he wants coffee and then he's ready to give his translation another go.

He makes coffee while humming a song he's had stuck in his head for half the day, scrolling his phone to start the playlist he only listens to when Yamada's not at home, but then a sound distracts him. It's a sharp, light sound of something small hitting the floor and bouncing once, and he frowns as he turns around in the direction the sound came from.

Then his heart freezes as he sees the floor in the corridor.

A red crayon rests on the carpet, all alone and definitely not there a moment ago. Keito's heart is beating hard as he stares at it for a moment, desperately listening for more sounds, convinced someone must have dropped it since there's no way it could fall there from the bookshelf on it's own. But he's home alone. There's no one else here.

He swallows hard, the coffee maker bubbling calmly behind him, and he takes a deep breath. Tries to act adult.

He stands there for another minute, but there's no other sound in the house besides his own breathing and the coffee maker, so he figures maybe it really just fell down after all. Still, he pulls a kitchen knife from the holder before he carefully makes his way over to the corridor, peaking around the corners with the knife held tightly in his hand. He feels equal parts dumb and terrified, adrenaline pumping through his body and making his hands shake. He stares at the crayon on the floor like it's a snake that could attack him if he turns his back to it, then slowly walks around it to look in the bookshelf. There's no crayon there.

He breahes a deep sigh, then turns back to the crayon to pick it up and put it back, almost ready to laugh at himself when he sees something he's never seen before. The sunlight throws a shadow on the wall next to the crayon, something that looks like a large square behind the wallpaper, and Keito suddenly feels cold again.

His hand is already in his pocket to reach for his phone, call Yamada and ask him to come home, but then he stops himself. Thinks of how Yamada refused to put a painting on this wall. How Yamada said the scratching noises were mice. And how Yamada looked at him when he asked about the crayons.

A shiver runs down his back as he has to look behind him, getting a sudden feeling of not being able to turn his back against anything, but there's still nobody there besides the coffee maker. The coffee will be done soon.

Keito turns back to the wall, jumping as he sees his own shadow on it, the knife in his hand looking terrifying and he figures that maybe he's being the scary one right now.

He watches the wall for another moment, but then decides he has to do it. There's no other option. Yamada will be home soon and he needs to know what this is before that happens.

Keito falls to his knees, nudging the crayon aside, then raises a shaky hand to the wallpaper, setting the knife into it. The first cut is quick, the wallpaper tearing with a rough sound as the knife slides into some kind of straight track behind it. Keito's heart is pounding hard in his chest as he keeps tearing at the wallpaper, pulling away enough to realize it's a door to what looks like a storage room, since it's only half the height of a normal door and a little above floor level. The handle is torn out and the remains covered with duct tape, as were the sides of the door before Keito cut them open while removing the wallpaper.

Keito's breathing hard, the panic pulsing in his body but he can't leave this now, needs to know what's inside of here. Hopes it's just a forgotten storage room with mice, but he has a feeling it's not.

He spends a while trying to pull the door open, but eventually puts the knife into the gap on the side where the lock would be and bends, hearing a rusty lock click open. The door swings ajar, making Keito drop the knife and scramble back because he's so certain something's coming out.

But the door pauses, and he figures it was only momentum from the opening. He pulls out his phone, lights the flashlight on it and takes another breath before reaching out to pull the door fully open, fingers trembling as he touches the thick, old wood.

He almost wants to close his eyes as the dark hole in the wall opens, but he physically can’t, and he involuntarily steps back as the light hits something white close to the door.

But as Keito takes another breath and his mind stops spinning, he realizes it's a toy. A stuffed zebra covered in dust and whatever other things a long time in storage would leave on an item.

Keito frowns as he steps closer, a shaking hand reaching in to take the toy out enough to look at it properly. It's cold and a little moist in his hands, but he can tell it was once soft and loved by a child, the stuffing in the neck a little compressed from being hugged that way.

Keito's mind is racing as he looks at it, trying to comprehend, and he tosses the toy aside to hurry back to the entrance and look at the inside of the room. It's a low ceiling, rough wooden floor and insulation covered in metal nets breaking off the wooden panel on the wall. But what makes horror claw at his entire body is the writing.

_I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry_

Is written all over the walls, on the floor, in a messy, child like hand writing, and Keito suddenly feels like throwing up, his head spinning and he's shaking so hard he drops his phone on the floor.

It's written in red crayon.

He gasps as he suddenly feels an impact hit his back and he tumbles forward, scraping his legs on the high threshold, and he barely catches himself against the rough wood with his hands, a splinter digging into his palm and his wrist hurts like hell.

He quickly spins around on the floor, turning to see what pushed him, heart beating in his throat as he sees a silhouette against the afternoon sun in the house.

He's about to call for help, but then the silhouette shifts out of the direct sunlight and he meets Yamada's eyes, sees them as dark and shining with wrath as they'd been in the bathroom talking about the disobedient child.

Keito's entire body seems to freeze as Yamada carelessly tosses the stuffed zebra and the crayon inside the small room like they disgust him, then takes a step back.

The slam of the heavy door rings in Keito's ears as everything goes black.

 

 

 

 


End file.
